


A Family Effort

by crookedneighbour, tendervittles



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Dubious Consent, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Implied/Referenced Incest, Incest, M/M, Nipples, Parent/Child Incest, Physical Abuse, Rape/Non-con Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-26
Updated: 2016-03-26
Packaged: 2018-05-29 04:24:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6359209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crookedneighbour/pseuds/crookedneighbour, https://archiveofourown.org/users/tendervittles/pseuds/tendervittles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ramsay enjoys the some perks of being the Lord of Winterfell.  Roose interrupts him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Family Effort

**Author's Note:**

> We're engaged and this is our first fanfic together, can you believe it's taken us so long?? But anyway... the couple that sins together wins together!
> 
> Enjoy! <3

It was good to be the lord of Winterfell. The steam from the hot springs kept it warmer than the Dreadfort ever was and Ramsay has his pick of Stark’s wines. Father was always frugal and sparing with their own selection, but here Ramsay had been able to help himself. He leaned back in one of the chairs he’d found in Eddard’s quarters, direwolves still emblazoned on the arms. In his hand was a chalice of warmed wine and between his legs his pet, another thing the Stark’s had once owned, sat. Ramsay had already stripped himself of his shirts, basking bare chested in the heat of the lit fireplace. The wine had brought a flush to his chest and face, a light sweat even formed on the back of his neck.

It occurred to Ramsay briefly that some—Father, in particular—might think of him solely as an opportunist, a scavenger, using nothing but cunning to rise high off the labors of other men—better men.  Ramsay’s lips turned down and a whimper from his feet reminded him that Roose Bolton couldn’t be more wrong.  Reek, his simple, smelly servant, was the perfect example.  Maybe _Theon Greyjoy_ had belonged to the Starks, but Ramsay had plucked him up and made him _better_.  He would do the same with Winterfell, in time.  Father would see.

Reek knowingly nuzzled at his thigh, fearing his master’s displeasure. Ramsay smiled at this. The wine had slowed his blood so it would be time till he grew hard; but it was pleasurable to simply feel the heat of Reek’s breath through his britches as he muttered countless apologies.

Mangled fingers pawed at his clothes. Ramsay looked down lazily. Perhaps his bitch was in heat again. He’d given Reek a hard whipping at Damon’s hand this morning, followed by an even harsher fucking, and yet the terrible thing still wanted more.

“Do you really miss my cock that much?” Ramsay hummed, fussing idly with Reek’s grimy hair. His ass would be of no use to him now, but his mouth was another matter entirely.

“I do, m’lord.” Reek replied.  The pathetic creature’s lips moved against Ramsay’s thigh, muffling his voice.  A quick, obedient answer.  Ramsay enjoyed that too.  It brought a little life to his cock.

Reek responded accordingly, pressing his hand against Ramsay’s swelling member.  He really had improved.  Without a full set of fingers, it was difficult for Reek to give Ramsay a proper stroking.  Instead, he had to make use of what was left to him and he had grown quite adept at it.  Reek demonstrated his skill now, applying light pressure to Ramsay’s balls, palming them.  He cupped Ramsay’s cock next and massaged him there.

He truly was desperate to taste his master.  Reek’s attentions were growing steadily more insistent, urging Ramsay’s cock to hardness.  This naughty, filthy thing needed him.

“Then unlace me, and get to it. It’s clearly what you want. You’re lucky I’m so generous.”

Reek tugged at his clothes submissively, not looking up from the task. Ramsay’s cock jutted out from between his dark pubes and in its stiffened state was propped gently against his stomach. Reek adjusted his positioned and gave the tip of Ramsay’s cock a tentative lick. Ramsay grunted in pleasure, enjoying the wet tease of Reek’s tongue tracing his slit. Reek then widened his mouth and wrapped his lips about the head of his cock, adjusting Ramsay’s clothes to give him better access.

Reek’s mouth was moist and warm, and he knew how to use it, thanks to Ramsay.  Before he learned his name, Reek had wasted those pretty lips and quick tongue mouthing off at his new master.  Ramsay’s hand across his face and lost teeth had cured that.  Reek knew what his mouth was for now.

The attention of Reek’s mouth had him slick base to tip.  He suckled at the head now, alternatively swirled his tongue and flicking it the way he’d been taught.  Ramsay groaned.  Reek could read him well and understood the signal to take his lord fully.

He put his whole body into it.  Maimed hands gripped Ramsay’s thighs for leverage as Reek deep-throated his cock.  His whole body rocked back and forth with the effort.  It felt good.  It felt better on the down-stroke, when Reek strained until the tip of his nose was nestled against Ramsay’s pubis.  His throat pulsed with effort as he forced himself to take Ramsay’s thick length all the way.  His face flushed.  Tears dribbled out his eyes and cut meandering paths through the grime on his cheeks.

Reek could hold position for much longer than he had when Ramsay had begun training him.  But for all his whorish posturing, he couldn’t bring Ramsay off with his body alone.

It wasn’t truly his fault.  Poor little Reek.  He really did try.  And Ramsay could enjoy Reek’s efforts, for a time, until he was ready to guide them both to his orgasm.

He just needed a little something… extra… that only violence inflicted at his own hand could add to any coupling.  So Ramsay fisted his hands in the tangled, greasy mats of Reek’s hair and prepared to really fuck his pet’s mouth.  To his credit, Reek never faltered in his ardent sucking.

There was a low creak. Winterfell often made noises though, the wind and steam travelling through the passages of the castle. There’s was something about this that put Ramsay on edge though, perhaps it was the drink. He turned to find his father standing in the doorway, his lips pursed in bored displeasure.

“I have words for you,” Roose started, studying the lewd scene before him. He looked down to Reek, who had turned even paler than usual, then back to Ramsay who was flustered red from cheek to cock. He let out a brief sigh. “Disappointing.”

Roose casually loosed his cloak as he approached an empty chair, draping it over the back nonchalantly.

It was just like his father to interrupt. He wouldn’t let father get the best of him this time though.

“We can speak like this. I see nothing wrong with it,” Ramsay snapped, his cock losing some of its virility. Reek paused between his legs and Ramsay tugged the back of his hair with more force.

“I didn’t tell you to stop,” he snarled, his attention refocused on Reek.

Reek tentatively brushed his closed lips over Ramsay’s cock, but shied at resuming his ministrations. 

Ramsay didn’t hesitate.  He delivered a brisk smack upside Reek’s head.  He _would not_ be embarrassed in front of his father.

“Well?  Has something changed?  You were practically whoring yourself to me a moment ago.”  Reek wouldn’t admit that it was Roose’s presence that unmanned him so and he had to learn sometimes that it was Ramsay—not his father—who held final authority over him.

Dutifully, Reek dipped his head and Ramsay’s cock was once again engulfed in the warmth of him. Ramsay was immediately stiffened again.  He smirked.

His father couldn’t even give him that.

“You take your station too lightly. I will not speak of it while you debase yourself.  It is distasteful to me,” Roose chided.

How typical.  Ramsay often felt he appreciated this desolate, frozen wasteland more than his only son.

Roose approached and stood over him as Reek worked between his legs. There was no heat from him. He drew his gloves carefully from his hands, tucking them into his belt. Ramsay did not turn from his gaze; it would be a loss. Roose’s fingers brushed against Ramsay’s bare nipple. As the pink buds of his flesh swelled with blood, Roose pinched and twisted them, Ramsay wincing in pain and grinding his teeth.

“Finish your diversion,” Roose ordered. With that he settled back into the other chair.

With Reek suckling at his cock (not to mention the attention Roose had paid to his nipples), Ramsay had maintained his erection throughout his father’s chiding.  He decided he would see this through to his climax.  Let his father wait while he took his pleasure.  Maybe watching his son spill himself would thaw Roose’s own cock… stop his meddling long enough for Ramsay to establish his rule here…

That thought spurred him on.  Ramsay returned his hands to Reek’s hair.  He would take his mouth roughly now, maybe even more roughly than he had originally intended.  Ride his face like he rode his ass earlier.  Reek would surely cry then.  It was always better when he cried.  If he felt even a hint of those broken teeth Ramsay would beat him bloody.  He’d flay another toe and leave it to rot.

Ramsay picked up the pace of his thrusting.  Reek was really getting fucked now.  His frail body had gone limp; his hands dropped to his sides.  Ramsay’s hands were all the support he had.

Finally, the tears fell in earnest.  Slimy trails of snot dripped from Reek’s nose and his face screwed up as he cried.  He might have wailed, had his mouth not already been stuffed full of Ramsay’s cock.  He was truly beautiful.  Even Roose’s presence couldn’t take that away.

Ramsay locked eyes with his father as he spilled his seed. He wanted him to see how Reek obeyed. He’d tamed and broken him, and he’d do the same to anyone else that challenged their house. Father would see that; father would surely see. Ramsay’s grunting shifted into a prolonged moan and his body’s motions became reflexive and frenzied. Reek swallowed as he’d been trained to. He was to savor every drop his master gave him.

Ramsay pushed Reek unceremoniously aside and gave his own cock a leisurely squeeze, enjoying the secondary pulse of pleasure it sent from his belly and down to his toes. Seed and saliva dripped from Reek’s lips, but as he was taught he licked them clean.

“Thank you, m’lord,” he whispered.

Ramsay nodded in acknowledgement.  He was sated now.  Leisurely, he reached out and ran his fingers through Reek’s hair.

“Good Reek.  Gooood.”

Reek hummed softly.  Roose made an almost inaudible noise.

Reek’s eyes closed as Ramsay caressed him.  This was the part he liked the best and Ramsay was willing to prolong the moment if it made his father uncomfortable.  He wondered if this was something Roose also found _distasteful_.

“Send your creature away, now. I need your full attention,” Roose said neutrally.

“I’d say I just spent it,” Ramsay cooed. He nudged Reek absently with his boot. “You heard my father, back to the kennels, Reek.”

As Reek stood Ramsay gave him a hard swat, and the creature jumped in surprise. Ramsay snorted with delight.  “I’ll expect you in my chambers.  Perhaps there’ll be a bite of meat for you, since you pleased me so well.”

Roose remained silent, watching Reek make his exit. Once the door shut he spoke again.

“I had other plans for you originally,” he said vaguely. Standing, he looked at the mess of seed and snot that remained on Ramsay’s stomach. “You’ve made a mess of yourself and your clothes.  Remove the rest.  You’ll assist me with my leeching.”

Ramsay wet his lips.  Father certainly did look like he needed a… leeching. 

“Ramsay.” Roose beckoned.  “I won’t speak of diplomacy in this state, and I won’t say it again.  Attend me.”


End file.
